Wednesday, 31 December 2014

FORGIVE AND/OR/PERHAPS FORGET by Daisy Waitherero Wambua

I finally cracked this nut.I hope. It was not part of my new year's resolution bucket list,not that i have one but am glad i almost resolved it. If you have a trail of people who have crossed your line, pushed buttons that you didnt think you had and you would rather play russian roulette with,with a fully loaded gun(say no to violence and say yes to accidents kind of scenario) then this is a read that you should follow word by word of course noting the bracketed phrases too.

Main dispute lying where God created us as social beings meaning we got nothing but each other unless you are Donald J Trump then you got money,employees and an island. You cant do without me and i cant live without you applies to the rest of us: its a soap opera! So when we are at loggerheads we have a problem.The comfort of forgiving is that you free the offender's conscience and the luxury of forgetting is that you let your conscience free. You can forgive all you want but if you wont forget then forgiving is nothing but a chicken on the run.

With people coming from different ethnic,social,economical and religious backgrounds,only one thing can happen.....war. With such a complex nature existing and a murky image of who is who and what they appreciate or regard as offensive then the line of "natukae na undugu" in the national anthem doesnt apply. We will cross paths,we will bite scratch and harm. According to culture,nothing is wrong or right,its the difference of culture that stirs up emotions.

In a normal Kenyan society, we practice the act of annoying and later apologising in every hap. You step on someone's shoe,you apologise,you steal somebody's pants,you apologise, you rob a bank, you apologise while in jail, you steal somebody's girlfriend,uuummm...... i dont know if you should apologise for this one or you shouldnt. But you get the idea: the feeling of regret and remorsefulness is quite contagious and imposing.
What happens after an apology is the oxygen to the air. Literally. You stepped on my shoes; i smile and say its okay,steal my pants;i didnt even notice though there is only one pair of that make in the region,rob a bank; i got my money insured so ill let it pass,unfortunately you cant pass prison, stole my girl;well i am not quite certain but in most scenarios you would get punched then forgiven after buying beer.

If somebody has ever got you mad to a level that you wished you would pick the world up and drop it on their head, if you have fantasised mutiple times of how that annoying conversation should have gone or would have gone, if asked whether you have a cordial relationship with that person and you still flinch before saying yes, if you still have a change of mood each time they mistakenly pop up in your thoughts.......YOU HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN

You will continously relive that incident you had with them over and over again until your tape scratches: code word for you need a psychologist. It will be like somebody cutting your throat a million times and you heal right after. It makes you stuck in a time capsule, something that happened in 2003 follows you to 2015,mistakes that somebody made become your budden and it never stops until you forget.

With that said, i dont mean you get on a drinking spree with an aim of having a blurry memory. I have one rule: Dont Vodka when angry or distressed. Try actual release of pain by dealing with it to a point where you forget. When you reach that point please do share the secret because i have had a hard time when i try going through the "dont think about it again" part. The assignment we were given an hour ago escapes my mind easily but i do remember on 11:50:24 on Friday 7th March 2014, weather: cold as teachers to TSC, i lent you my rent money. Forgive you man for you have sinned.

Therefore, the lad that borrowed me rent money and still hasnt paid,i forget you for now. (Smiles)

Monday, 29 December 2014

THE BIBLE: VERSION 2014 by Daisy Waitherero Wambua

God commanded that man should go and fill the earth and trust men to have taken it literally and embark on a mission to fill every single square meter. We got an overpopulated continent, depleted food resources, men on deadbeat for abandoning the places they filled, bombing and terroristic malpractices aimed at reducing us and women sexually oriented as men on the increase. Shout out to my bros on the Asian continent for leading us in this race; you are all blessed.

After minimal or next to none research into the women’s insecurity symptoms in relation to the unprecedented men’s incapability to practice monogamy, I concluded that sperm donors and lesbianism are the ‘messiah’ that women always needed. I certainly don’t stand to be corrected simply because am right on a level that most men might consider naïve (I loathe this word) and to some extent pain in the neck aka feministic; but that is none of my business *sips Drostdy Hoff* for I ran out of potassium permanganate.

I have no intentions to justify lesbianism or homosexuality but we are in the 21st century; things that are not accepted in a normal society are embraced by this generation. For instance a man wearing a t-shirt written “I love Beiber”(gays), kupanda mbegu is not entirely farming, (according to Kanyari’s agricultural practices), women who are men but still are women(Andrew Audrey), children dressing like adults and adults wearing children’s clothes(socialites), taking nude photos is a professional career (Kim Kardashian) and so on so forth.

I am starting to think that the end of the world is really coming. We have more sin than all generations combined. I don’t mean to judge but we are doomed if Jesus comes as a thief anytime soon. Though I do find it a little strange that Jesus’ coming is being compared to that of a thief. I mean He is the Alpha and the Omega, The son of the King Himself, The bearer of the crown, The man who gave us all a second chance to life and life in abundance; its politically incorrect to give Him such a shoddy comparison with a thief. But who am I to point out errors of an author’s work, I haven’t even written one book.

So during this festive season try not to add too many sins; I mean it would be literally hell for you if you do. I am definitely not spared, whoever is with no sin, dare cast a stone. Gor Mahia dont test me this holiday season.

Forgive us Father for we have sinned, been sinning and unfortunately will sin.

Tuesday, 23 December 2014


No woman likes to be passed as being insecure or come off in the slightest way doubtful of who she is and what she has to bring at the table. She would rather put up a façade that she can even bring the table let alone what she is offering. Women put a certain intensity of faith in what they think, do and who they are with. The latter of course is the Achilles’ heel if it happens to be that they are with a man. Sorry lesbians but the boyfriend in the relationship is not a man or rather wasn’t born a man but she can be a man (homosexuality blurs me) But who am I to come in between a woman and her sexuality? Or is it a man and her sexuality?

If a woman can have it all from a Phantom dipped in coal black paint with the interiors covered in white crisp leather, a house big enough to accommodate Vera Sidika, Kim Kardashian and their counterparts (I do recognize their derriere as another person) rooms covered in ceramic marbles with a touch of finesse that gives off an impression of wealth and class, shoes running in her closet like the jam from Nairobi to Rongai. To top it all off she is a loving wife; the type to drop everything if her husband comes down with a flu (might be Ebola but she wouldn’t give a damn)

She wouldn’t ask for anything because she is well accomplished and her wealth tails her from the moments back in history. She would work hard to keep her accounts in check but she wouldn’t give a second thought to shower her partner with a Porsche on his birthday, a trip to Morocco on a Sunday evening, club going up on a Tuesday. To many she is idolized but behind closed doors, she is nothing but a woman who suspects her husband of infidelity, money laundering, wealth parasite and with too many calls in the night like it’s a calling(literally). I wouldn’t date a doctor even if he tranquillizes me. (Confession)

You at the prime of your life, basically doing what people say “living life” but she is always on a prowl that the man of her dreams should have stayed in her dreams. At least that way she would have more dreams than nightmares of her husband being shared among the scum and ratchets of the society.

But she is wrong; “a woman is always right until she is wrong”. He works at odd hours just to be the bread winner of his family; a little taste of being the head of the family. He craved to pay the bills for the month but his wife would cash out all the bills for the year. He wanted a type of recognition in his home whereby his wife would let him fix a loose door knob or the annoying recoil of the pantry door that occasionally slaps him from behind when he goes in; but his wife was always two islands ahead. He was emasculated; the most heartrending torture but she thought of it as love. He never fancied anyone from the female species, his wife was literally the only bean in the githeri. I bet Julie Gichuru would pass right in front of him and he wouldn’t flinch. He loved her more than he loved himself. But she still doubted…………

Sunday, 21 December 2014

THE C WORD by Daisy Waitherero Wambua

The feeling of being shipped to a warzone yet you have never registered for combat or being compelled to join a club that has never crossed your mind to join is the kind of feeling one would get after being diagnosed with cancer. It’s a battle that chooses you unlike all other diseases that we more or less participate in choosing. When you dance in the rain thinking you are in Bollywood, you catch a cold; when you kiss every frog in the pond looking for a prince, you get herpes; when you go to KFC more than the gym, you end up on the heavier side of life (read socialite)

Spending time with senior citizens and cancer patients doesn’t vary as much as I expected. Death is spoken of so casually that you will think it’s like talking about fashion or food or Johnston Muthama’s butt. The acknowledgement that we are mortal beings is something that most of us brush off easily though we constantly say YOLO. The most horrid thing in life is seeing someone fight for the life that we so carelessly live; all we do is strip women and some politicians and let us not forget about pouring water on the speaker because apparently he is too hot for the seat and of course being vocal about our emotions in the name of activism.

Leukemia, Basal Cell Carcinoma, Melanoma, Breast Cancer, Ovarian Epithelial Cancer, Lung Cancer, Neuroblastoma and the list goes on up to over 100 types. The cases of cancer which are generally related to tobacco is 22% and 5-10% is genetics. This therefore means that we have the choice to live a healthy and happier life if we so wish. When your body gives up on you and your mind is still hopeful that maybe it will finally pick up the positivity is what keeps these patients going. The fight for a future that may never happen and avoiding a past that can’t get enough of you. The prayer and hope that the next day will be a little bit better is what keeps despair at arm’s length.

It’s politically correct to live life like you are about to die but who lives as if they will die tomorrow? We all know that tomorrow will come that is why you have secrets from here up to Tennessee, a dream to work at a strip club that vanishes as soon as you open your eyes, voices inside of your head of things you should have said or could have said, feelings that tear you apart but you would rather keep them bottled up and a tears at night from the vicious past that you keep reliving.

I certainly do not wish to die but I constantly ask myself, if I knew I am going into the afterlife tomorrow, would this be the last thing I would want to do? Staring at my laptop at 3 in the morning. But just incase, if I die young place Oreos and tropical heat tomato crisps in my casket, wear yellow and not black, bring yellow lilies not roses (I have a thing for yellow,its called Kamba blood) cry and never cry again and please no tights at my funeral (fashion faux pas). Before then, I do pray to see somebody finding the cure to cancer. I would love to ghave the honour of such a discovery but I actually fall sick when I hear medical research institute and hospital.

Friday, 12 December 2014


"We are not Africans because we were born in Africa,we are Africans because Africa was born in us"

Quotes used to be my Bible when I was a bit younger, I kept scrolls of them in my school bag, under my bed, on my desk, in my desk almost on the teacher's desk too. He was a lazy bum; too lazy to a point that we (read they) encouraged him to give us assignments. I never liked assignments so second to Jesus, he was my most favorite man. Though I kind of blame him for not educating me enough to go to Harvard University. But oh well, I guess I wasn't that white either.

People in diaspora keep the narrative "Africa is a rich place" in a recycle bin yet we who are actually here never seem to get the depth of the wealth. The only things we are 'privileged' to see is Alshabab on Aljazeera, Uhuru on Bensouda rather Bensouda on Uhuru, empty seats in parliament that cost more than Kim Kardashian's naked photo shoot and let's not forget the strange and random deaths of politicians and families. Would somebody please bring an end to occults,we might be a little overpopulated but no need to jump of the thika highway.

Six suspects announced for crimes against humanity after the 2007 general elections. From the highest profile; son of founding president who is also our current president, two cabinet ministers,head of civil service and a former chief of police. This list was brought to light 2 years after the occurence : in which plans for relocation and reimbursement were underway. 7 years later, minimal developments have been made. Did all the money for reparation end up in fuel consumption and upkeep for the trips to-fro Hague?

After all of this the ICC clears four suspects of the heinous acts due to lack of evidence. I do not mean to be skeptical but what type of evidence does one retrieve 7 years down the line?Time wasted, promises broken,inappropriate celebrations and broken families. We still have people living in the White House that has actual steel frames and hip roof while others in White Shanties that has grassed floors and an open plan structure.

It's definitely not in my line of duty to get my hands gripped in any politically infected occurrence but I dare not let injustice pass. I would join in the frenzy and drink wine "hail the digital king is back" but I will be politically incorrect for even having the thought. Forgive me but I do not see it fit to celebrate the freedom of a man yet the greater percentage of us is still in bondage. Four have been freed from indictment thus far and the remaining two will soon follow root course. Question is; who is behind the crimes if all are liberated from the charges?

We were unable to help ourselves seven years ago with the collapse of the special tribunal therefore it is no surprise that seven years later we are unable to be helped.
I dare not speak on the religious strife we are facing. The pride that we once had from Nelson Mandela, Mansa Musa, Haile Selassie, Nnamdi Azikiwe is fading together with the memory of them. No governance and no country is perfect but there exist nothing worse than a country which is its own threat.

Bottom line is that we are rich but we are no where near the Forbe's list.

Friday, 5 December 2014


Kenyans have decided to escalate a culture that tarnishes the holy matrimony. Nowadays we embrace come-we-stay, series of baby mama’s and chains of ‘situationships’. I can guarantee that the only two people who care about love and marriage are Alonso and Yvan from ‘Tujuane’. Forgive me for the spellings; foreign names do not fall anywhere in my pro list. There will come a time whereby marriages will be completely eradicated and those who are married will be quarantined.

In the past, the only reason why a proper lady would be in a come-we- stay kind of agreement is when the man is not able to pay the dowry. And in this case, the man would be given a duration to pay up or he would be compelled to give her up. In our generation, ladies seem to enjoy being wives; cleaning his house, washing his clothes, cooking for him; running errands for him. At this pace we would be paying the dowry. Today the only difference between girlfriends and house helps is that girlfriends are allowed to sleep on his bed overnight.

Women need to start requiring men to marry them. You are showing him how good of a wife you will be but two years down the line you discover he wanted your sister to say ‘I DO’. You find another man who is a cup of hot chocolate and instantly you feel obligated to do your wifely duties. A couple of years later you realize he only deals with women whose office is not a kitchen and tools are not mops and Axion.

You have wasted six years of your life being married yet you don’t have a rock on your finger, a certificate in your room, babies with a father and your career is still stuck in between two steps forward and six steps back. And here you are condemning the ladies in Koinange for sleeping with men for money. Don’t misquote me I do not support body hawking. But the one in Koinange gets her money from your ‘husband to be’ without being his house help and even 'advances' her career while at it.

Men stop giving her the label ‘wife’ when you both know you are living in sin. You probably got a ‘wife’, babe 1, babe 2, bae, le bae and a whole lorry of women with titles that don’t add up. Ladies don’t get it twisted; if he is anything like Kimaiyo please do yourself a favor and leave. If he says ‘There were five females but four of them were male’ dear girlfriend please run, ‘I wasn’t able to come with my personal car because I didn’t have bus fare ’ sweetheart you must run, ‘I was at the club but I didn’t enter because there weren’t any drinks on the shelves’ honey please kill him then commit suicide.

If you are just his girlfriend and you wake up at three in the morning to open up for him, remove his shoes and dust them, hold his tie while he pukes,wash his face and warm his supper then you are his girlfriend doubling up as his house help, his watchman and to some extent you are a gym trainer; too much lifting of weights. Men might be few in the world but if it was meant to be, you will find him; no need to be a laundry machine and a dish washer